


Keep them crawlers out

by Royalrastafariannaynays



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dancing, Fluff, House Party, M/M, Oneshot, Recreational Drug Use, Sleepy Kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-13 22:58:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1243714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Royalrastafariannaynays/pseuds/Royalrastafariannaynays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh come on, Dean, it’s not that bad.”</p><p>Sam was smirking at him in the rear-view mirror, and Dean made a very mature face at him and looked back out the window at the house. “Yeah, because a bunch of reckless college kids getting plastered on a couple of cheap kegs is really not that bad.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep them crawlers out

**Author's Note:**

> It's meant to be a soft fluff to be cute! But please see end notes for warnings, thank you. :)

The party spilled out the front door, windows highlighting patches of grass and music drifting across the yard. There was laughter within and the bass was audible from nearly twenty yards out, and Dean was suddenly and inexplicably relieved that the house was on a pretty large piece of land and the neighbors far enough away across some well-placed trees and hedges that the cops wouldn’t be called on the… event. He fidgeted on the bench seat in the back of Jess’s car and sighed. 

“Oh come on, Dean, it’s not that bad.”

Sam was smirking at him in the rear-view mirror, and Dean made a very mature face at him and looked back out the window at the house. “Yeah, because a bunch of reckless college kids getting plastered on a couple of cheap kegs is really not that bad.”

“What, like you’ve never been there.” 

“The difference between me and what you know I’m talking about is that I know how much I can handle, genius, and I don’t pass that limit without purpose,” he snapped and got out of the car, closing the door firmly and brushing down his clothes with the sole purpose of giving his hands something to do. When he looked up again there was a fairly bitchy face staring him down from across the car. “What?!”

“The reason we brought you out here is that you need to relax, and take a step back from studying for that test before I forcibly remove your books.”

“I can relax at home! Where I don’t have to deal with-“ he gestured widely at the party.

“You wouldn’t stop freaking out about your test if we left you to your own devices, Dean,” Jess cut in smoothly, stepping into his line of sight and pressing a hand to his shoulder. “Just because you’re in your last year doesn’t mean you have to be all work, all the time.” She smiled sweetly with an edge of determination and it was then that Dean knew he had lost. 

“I don’t even know these guys,” he protested weakly, gruffly and uselessly, and she turned back to Sam, victory clear in the set of her jaw as well as Sam’s grin. “Then it’s a perfect opportunity to meet new people and take your mind off of your exam.”

Jess took Sam’s arm and looked expectantly at Dean, who caught up before the car had beeped shut and followed them the remaining distance up to the house. 

 

 

Inside, it was a bit warm and Dean was suddenly glad he’d decided not to wear his leather jacket. There were people standing around and talking with red cups in their hands, the house smelled fairly clean and the music wasn’t as loud as it had seemed outside. Of course, he expected it to be turned up periodically, knowing how these things usually went. Jess and Sam walked off to talk to some of their friends and Dean was alone, not feeling like he’d have much to say to the law kids. The house had two stories and, if the waft of sweet smoke was correct, a basement where there would be stoners if he ever wanted to find them. He chose to pass the staircase and the basement door to follow the sound of the most noise and the familiar tap of ping pong balls to the kitchen. 

The kitchen was teeming with people, most of whom were crowded around the game of beer pong in the small breakfast room, and he flagged down the dude who looked like he was making drinks and got himself something that wasn’t flowery and wasn’t keg beer, but was most likely a rum and coke made with the nastiest rum around, and left the even warmer kitchen in search of somewhere to sit.

He took a gulp from his hand and winced, but grinned when he heard a shout from a familiar voice. “Dean!”

Jo shot up behind him and threw her arms around his shoulders. She giggled something that could’ve been “come sit with us,” and started pulling his arm in the general direction of the living room. 

And of course she, Victor, Ash and Charlie were hanging out in the room with the music and dancers, because he just had to be plunked on the arm of a regrettably comfy couch in the corner of the hottest room yet with Jo kissing his cheek and people saying things he couldn’t hear. Charlie was well on her way to drunk and Ask was animatedly trying to tell a story that people were laughing at. Victor waved on hand on him and put his arm back around Jo when she sat down. He mouthed something along the lines of “having fun yet” and Dean made another face before downing the rest of his drink in one gulp, resulting in Jo jumping up and snatching his cup from his hands. 

She left without explanation and Dean snorted, hoping she intended to get him another one. “There goes my hopes and dreams,” he said drily, and victor laughed loudly and patted Dean on the back. 

Victor had to shout above the noise of the party to be heard. “I missed you man, how have you been? Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I’ve been good, Sam dragged me out to ‘relax,’ whatever that means,” Dean replied, equally loud.

“That kid’s got your best interests in mind, you know that.”

“Yeah, I guess he does. Doesn’t need to take care of me, though.”

“Come on, let him once in a while, he needs it just as much as you.”

“I know, I know.”

Jo came back at that point and the conversation fell flat, as she pushed the cup into Dean’s hands an sat back down, too close to Victor and saying things in his ear that made Henricksen laugh and Dean probably never wanted to hear come out of her mouth.

Dean took another resolute gulp of what was now shit keg beer and looked back out at the party. He could feel his mind blurring a little, could feel a little of the edge taken off his stress. He moved back on the arm he sat upon, leaning up against the wall with one ankle over a knee, and watched Charlie make a fool of herself trying to dance with this girl who was being a really good sport about the whole thing. 

A little bit of blue caught his eye as he scanned the crowd, and he searched absently for it for a few minutes before he passed it again. After another second of search, his eyes found another pair that also wasn’t moving, across the room, and it was like a cheesy song because all he wanted to do at that point was stare at the miles of neck curved just to the side and the set of the sharp jaw and arms crossed. And those eyes. The almost confused-looking blue eyes squinting at him from the corner just a few meters away from himself, past a few writhing bodies and conversation partners. 

There were a few people talking to him, gravitating toward this messy-haired dude in his unironically ugly and baggy sweater that had a collar that sagged lower than the grey v-neck underneath it.. Obviously the dude paid little attention to them, not that they apparently cared, and Dean raised one eyebrow at the staring match before smirking and turning back to his friends, who had been trying to talk to him for a little while if their smug expressions at his distraction were any indication. 

“See something you like, Dean?” Jo laughed and Charlie, who had sometime made her way back to the couch, looked up at him and nodded sagely. Just nodded, for about a minute, before Dean snorted and reached out to touch her forehead and stop the motion. 

“As a matter of fact-“

“Excuse me,” a voice that was more gravel than actual voice came from very close behind him, and he took that moment to look at his friends’ gleeful and slightly surprised expressions before turning around to face those blue eyes and a small barely-there smirk like he’d just told a hell of a good line and was waiting for someone to pick up on it. 

“Huh?” He replied intelligently and leaned back, nearly forced to by the proximity of the dude that, if he wasn’t mistaken, had been standing just across the room not too long ago. He felt warm and a little fuzzy and grinned sheepishly before transforming his face into what he thought was a rakish organization of teeth and lip. “Well, hi, come here often?”

There was a near audible sigh and the dude took the half-empty cup out of his hand, putting it down on the table though Dean could have done that perfectly himself, and pulled Dean to his feet an toward the dance floor, or dance area, whatever. It was awkward, though the dude felt totally relaxed about it. The group of friends over in the corner didn’t look too put out, obviously a few having scattered but most not perturbed by the absence of the source of their orbit. Dean looked back at his friends and Charlie gave him a thumbs-up before he had to pay attention to where his feet were and lost sight of his people as he was taken into the crowd. 

“Okay, so I’m assuming that, uh, we’re going to dance because there wasn’t much talking,” Dean guessed.

“Yes, we’re going to dance. I’m assuming by the appreciative once-over that you’re okay with that.”

Oh, and the guy has an attitude. Well, that’s great.

“And here I thought hipsters can’t dance.”

“Stereotypes do perpetuate themselves and I am not a ‘hipster’ as you say, yet I believe I can dance.”

“I don’t even know your name?”

“Castiel.” What a weird fuckin’ name. His arms were resting on Dean’s shoulders and they had stopped in their journey through the mess of people. “You are Dean Winchester.” Wow.

“Thanks for introducing me. I’m gonna call you Cas. How do you know who I am again?” The song changed to something deep, thrumming, but with portions that sounded like old ripped blues records and modified voice pieces, with a background of trumpet and something like piano. He sunk into it gladly, taking Castiel’s still moment as an invitation to set a rhythm. The other’s body was strong and a little lighter than him but not; perfect. The fuzzy haze from the earlier rum was still present, though clearing slowly, and he got his face close as they shared air in the midst of other swaying bodies. 

It took a few minutes, but Castiel replied. “I’ve seen you around campus. I’m in the philosophy department.” And that explained fuck-all, so Dean laughed. 

Seeming to sense his confusion, Cas added, “My sister was in one of your classes for a credit requirement, your reputation precedes you.”

And there were way too many long words coming out of this Castiel guy’s mouth, so Dean only nodded, he didn’t reply. There was a sensual comfort to the dancing, and it carried on in a similar fashion for a couple of songs as they grew steadily warmer with each other, hands moving to hips and lead changing every minute or so with Castiel ending up dominant a majority of the time, telling Dean how to move with his legs and shoulders, and that wasn’t a problem at all. No siree, that was not a problem at all. 

When the music hit a lazy tempo and there was some slow grinding before Cas spoke again. “You are far more interesting than the other people at this party. Tell me, how are you liking the drinks here?” 

Dean knew it was only the start of a possibility before he replied grumpily. “I hate keg beer, to be honest.” 

Castiel’s smirk grew and he leaned forward to speak into Dean’s ear. “I have stronger stuff if you want it.” Dean froze up. What was this guy into exactly? He must have felt Dean tense, because when Dean drew back to reject the offer, there was another one of those irritated sighs, and Castiel spoke again. “Just THC, don’t let your brain get ahead of you.” He moved even closer to Dean, if that was possible, and rolled their bodies together. Dean relaxed immediately. Weed he could do.

Dean murmured a reply, “I’m not even sure if my brain is even present anymore, to be honest.” And mouthed once at the triangle of open skin just behind Cas’ ear before the decision was now made, and he was being tugged toward the stairs. He almost made a turn to go to the basement before he was jerked in the other direction, up the stairs and down a hallway.

“Come on, they’re charging for hash down there, I have better stuff anyway,” and suddenly he was out of his element again. Sure, he had smoked before, but not often, and this guy was suddenly talking like he was extremely familiar with everything in a world Dean had only accessed once or twice. It didn’t mean he wasn’t on board, but he’d taken a really harsh hit and breathed a bunch of fresh smoke through a bong last time because the stem had left the water, and it had taken a couple of days for his chest to feel normal again. He shook that memory out and let himself feel the alcohol that was slowly dwindling down in effectiveness.

They went through a door and into a room at the end of the hallway. Nearly all the sound from the party was absent once the door was shut, and Castiel sidled over to a desk to... pack a bowl, it looked like. “This is a really nice piece, I bought it online. It’s got a place for ice if you want it,” Castiel said softly, and glanced back at Dean through the dim lighting. There was a low murmur of something playing in the background that had a strong reverb in it, and as he got closer to the computer that was dimly lighting the small part of the room that wasn’t illuminated by the few strings of Christmas lights (“don’t judge me for the lights, Anna said it’d be cute and I never bothered taking them down”), he noticed a triangle with an eye and some “X”s and “Y”s and decided he didn’t need to know. The song title said “About You” and that seemed a bit sappy for the tone, but it sounded good, and that was good enough. Really.

“Yeah, sure. That sounds… great,” tumbled belatedly out of Dean’s mouth.

When Castiel moved back over to him and was suddenly all in his space again, he grinned and took off his flannel, tossing it somewhere behind him. Castiel rolled his eyes and moved even closer, nudging Dean into sitting on the Queen-sized bed and telling him to “take off your shoes, and I assume you’ve done this before?”

To which dean toed off his boots and sassed him, saying that he’d “done lots of things before,” with an emphasis on “things” in a blatant attempt to make it extremely sexual.  
And this guy couldn’t roll his eyes enough, apparently, seeing as he did it again and took that as confirmation that Dean knew how to smoke out of a glass piece. 

And so he toed off his own shoes, leaving himself barefoot, and moved too sit facing Dean on the bed. 

He took a silver lighter off the desk behind dean, leaning pleasantly close while Dean leaned himself against the wall, crossing his legs. Castiel lit up and took a long hit, holding it and expertly taking a smaller breath before exhaling entirely, a plump plume of smoke exiting both his nose and half-open lips before dissipating. He handed the piece to Dean and moved a little closer, breathing through the sensation of influence and eyes half-lidded. He watched Dean intently.

“Come on, don’t have all day,” He poked at the taller of the two, a lopsided grin fully finding his lips this time. 

And so Dean methodically took a hit in the same way, making sure to remove the stem, and when he breathed out Cas was there, in his lap, taking the glass from his hands and straddling his waist before the sensation sunk in and everything was suddenly heavy. All his worries from school left him and all he could feel was the warmth of Cas’s stomach and legs and arms finding the round of his neck before the music changed to something smooth and tonal, with dragging vocals that didn’t have to make sense. Their lips connected and pressed lethargically and Dean’s hands sprawled on Castiel’s waist and low sounds left one of their mouths (probably Dean) or maybe both.

The stuff was potent, that’s for sure, if he was feeling it this much from just one hit.

He could hardly focus on more than one thing, and right now that thing was Cas’s mouth, and That Thing was definitely on the top of his list of good things. He didn’t feel like his words would be coherent, so he didn’t speak. He breathed into Castiel’s open mouth and the space where their tongues just fit, and their breath tasted sweet and slightly burning, and vaguely of bad alcohol.

It was very nice, but then Cas decided to pull back with a bite to Dean’s upper lip, and he made an embarrassing needy sound in the back of his throat that would not be permissible any other time. His eyes were lost in seas of blue and expanses of pale skin as Cas took off his sweater, leaving only the gray tee and jeans that had somehow come partially undone. He lost those eyes for a second and there was a soft clinking sound and a noise like static shock before Cas’s thumb was parting his mouth and teeth and his lips were almost covered. Cas breathed into his mouth, making a noise like a half-moan or a half-sigh before Dean inhaled and his lungs were full of soft smoke. He held it until Cas blinked twice and then blew it out again, smiling. 

Humming behind his closed lips, he sunk a little more into the wall before reaching his hand out to pull in Cas’s neck to kiss him again. “We should do that more times.”

Cas giggled and hummed back into Dean’s lips and licked into his mouth. “Okay,” he agreed piously. Dean felt the buzz reach farther into his brain, and he let himself be pulled then pushed gently into the center of the bed, legs fitting neatly around Castiel’s waist. “Maybe later, Dean-o,” Cas added, and smiled into pressing another kiss to Dean’s lips. 

They made out for a while, Cas melting further and further into Dean’s body and Dean melting further into the comforter, until the high started to wear off and Cas pulled Dean up for some more mouth-to mouth. Each time they rolled back to lying down on the covers that were steadily becoming more and more wrinkled, Dean found himself feeling more and more heated. There was a second when Cas moved against him just right and hit a good spot through even so many layers of clothes, and he moaned a little enthusiastically before realizing glumly that even if he did manage a boner while so intoxicated, it wouldn’t hold up. Cas laughed out loud this time, the crow’s feet pulling at his eyes. “You can stay and we can pick up tomorrow?”

And Dean was so pleased with this that he managed to kiss Cas another time before sinking fully into the bed and letting his neck get peppered with slow kisses as his world seemed to just move through water, and that was alright. 

A while and dozens of kisses later, Dean had the thought to reach into his pocket and text Sam to go ahead without him, and he got a reply before Cas turned him over and spooned into his back from behind, twining together their legs and relishing in their combined warmth after cracking open a window. He felt too heavy to move, too tired to attempt, and so comfortable he wouldn’t regret coming to the party probably ever. 

Sam’s reply said something along the lines of “Yes, I know, I’ve seen some things I didn’t want to see tonight.” And for some reason that reply was so funny that Dean shook with laughter for a while before he was muted by soft lips and then that was the end of that. 

With the gentle and woodsy smell of Cas’s pillow in his nose he fell asleep, pleasantly warm and not a worry to be had. Well, at least until the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings include: drug use, especially marijuana use, possible non-con, though both are consenting here, there is a possibility of "no consent under the influence" even if the influence at the time of consent is very minor. Thank you for reading, I hope you all have a wonderful night or day :) 
> 
> Title is from "Crawlersout" by Purity Ring.


End file.
